


Afterburn

by darkforetold



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Stitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 22:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15873183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkforetold/pseuds/darkforetold
Summary: After Rome, Jesse and Gabriel comfort each other.Gabriel stood there, handsome, unyielding, his expression betraying nothing. A rivulet of blood trickling down his face. He’d reopened the gash on his temple somehow, but didn’t pay it any heed. What was a simple wound when hundreds lay in their own coffins?“S’gonna need stitches,” Jesse said. His voice sounded miles away.





	Afterburn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crookedfingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedfingers/gifts).



> For crookedfingers who requested hurt/comfort. Unbeta'd.

Rome. The explosion. So many of their own dead.

Jesse took a breath of stale air. Listened as the water faucet in the bathroom turned on. One splash, then two before it was quiet again. The two-roomed safe house wouldn’t allow them any privacy to grieve, any space to expand, decompress, gnaw over what they’d seen and heard. The blood… so much blood.

Footsteps behind him. Jesse looked over his shoulder. Gabriel stood there, handsome, unyielding, his expression betraying nothing. A rivulet of blood trickling down his face. He’d reopened the gash on his temple somehow, but didn’t pay it any heed. What was a simple wound when hundreds lay in their own coffins?

“S’gonna need stitches,” Jesse said. His voice sounded miles away.

He watched Gabriel waver on his feet a little, like a lost buoy at sea. Studied him in the dim light. Every muscle was drawn bow-string tight, every fiber of his being imprisoned by military training, his principles. _Feel nothing, show nothing._ Jesse zoned in on the softening of his jaw, the way Gabriel’s mouth began to turn downward, moisture glistening in his eyes. If Gabriel Reyes, hero of the Omnic Crisis, were any other man, he’d fall apart right in front of him. But he wasn’t and all his soft lines became rigid. Impenetrable, like a fortress. 

Drops of blood splattered on concrete.

Jesse stood up from the bed. His muscles screamed under duress, cuts and bruises forcing him to stop and take a steady breath. He tried to hide his wince behind a frown, but he wasn’t Gabriel Reyes—not invincible, unshakable Gabriel Reyes—and he grunted with the pain. It was immediate, the way Gabriel seemed to settle down to earth and gravitate toward him, his brown eyes accessing. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Jesse lied. “But you are. Sit on the bed.”

“I’m fi—“

“I ain’t askin’, Gabriel. I’m tellin’ you. _Sit on the bed_.”

And Gabriel did, reluctantly. Jesse inched his way across the room. The bathroom was, in reality, only a few feet away, but seemed like miles instead. He didn’t need to look to know that Gabriel was watching his every step, assertive brown eyes burrowing through his clothing to personally damn all of his aches and pains. He fetched the first-aid kit and came back into the main room to face Gabriel’s frown head-on. 

“I’m fine,” he said, which made Gabriel’s face deepen even more. Blood dripped onto the bed sheets.

Jesse tossed him a bottle of pills. It rattled like old bones, and Gabriel easily caught it, dropped it on the floor. _No_ , Gabriel’s eyes said. He’d gone through worse, Jesse had seen the scars all over his body, and people had lost their lives today. Jesse knew him too well after years of being at his side. Gabriel Reyes would tough it out like the soldier he was.

Alcohol. Thread. Needle. They’d have to do this the old fashioned way.

Why Gabriel wasn’t regenerating his wounds, he didn’t know. O’Deorain and her experiments, maybe. A concern for another day. Blood dripped down from his chin.

“S’gonna hurt, probably.”

Gabriel nodded, and Jesse sidled up next to him on the bed. Their combined body heat was like a warm summer’s day, familiar and peaceful in the ways that everything else in their lives weren’t. If he could, he’d melt into Gabriel’s arms again and stay there until his body stopped aching, until the screams in his head were gone. But he didn’t have that luxury. Gabriel was hurting, too, and Jesse wanted to do everything to stop it.

So, he leaned in and cupped Gabriel’s face. Swept a thumb over his cheekbone. Gabriel leaned into the touch like he couldn’t help himself. “How’s it look, doc?” He’d never heard Gabriel’s voice so quiet before.

Jesse looked at the gash. It was deep, bloody, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed up right here, right now. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, though, and said, “Looks pretty bad. Thinkin’ you’re done for.”

Gabriel smirked. “Not a bad way to go, dying in your arms.”

He wanted to kiss him. For being corny, for making his gut flip and flop the way it was, for the smile that spread across his face. Their eyes met, lingered for a moment, before Jesse said, “I’m supposed t’be the charmin’ one.”

“I have my moments.”

“Well, you gotta go back to bein’ tough, ‘cause like I said, this is gonna hurt.”

Jesse pressed a pad drenched in alcohol against his temple. Gabriel jerked and hissed in a breath, winced a little—more of a reaction to pain than he’d ever thought he’d see. It spoke of a vulnerability that stole his breath away. That Gabriel could hurt, express pain in front of him—Jesse cupped the opposite cheek, thumb rubbing arcs over his skin, their eyes locked, just staring. Appreciating that the both of them were alive and breathing. Together.

But for how long?

He cleaned the wound with gentle swipes, while dread chewed at his stomach lining. A gash was nothing, but the implications of it were immense. He couldn’t let it go, not while he opened the sterilized needle and brought it to bear, not while he stared at Gabriel and worried his bottom lip. 

“What is it?”

Jesse exhaled, hard. “I shouldn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Gabriel whispered. “Just a temporary side effect.”

“Yeah? Well, you figure it out and you fix it, y’hear me? I ain’t losin’ you too. Not ever.”

“Not ever,” Gabriel answered back.

“Good. Now, you hold still.”

Jesse gave Gabriel one last look before—Gabriel hissed and grabbed his thigh, purely out of reflex, as soon as the needle poked jagged skin. He weathered the sudden touch, the kneading of fretful fingers, while he sewed. One stitch, two, and at least twenty more to go. All the while, Gabriel growing more agitated, even whispering out a grunt of pain. Jesse spared him an adoring glance. “This that bad?”

A frown etched onto Gabriel’s face. “You’re supposed to be stitching me up, not stabbing me, agent.”

“What, I ain’t gentle enough for you? That a critique?” Jesse huffed out half a laugh. “Toughen up, darlin’.”

Gabriel nudged him solidly in the ribs. Pain exploded all over his skin like firecrackers, making Jesse recoil, clench his teeth and suck in a sharp breath. He leveled Gabriel with a glare. “That weren’t fair.”

“Toughen up.”

“Asshole,” Jesse groused. “You’re forgettin’ I got the needle.”

“I can just as easily do it myself.” 

“No,” Jesse whispered. “I got this.”

Because he wanted to mend Gabriel himself, stitch his pieces back together again. Make him whole. Better than he’d ever felt in his entire life. He brushed Gabriel’s cheek with light fingertips and angled his chin, to touch their lips together in a kiss that was almost chaste. “I promise I’ll do better.”

Gabriel kissed him back. It was more passionate, like he didn’t need anything else other than to touch him, be near him, and that thought alone—Jesse crushed their mouths together one more time before leaning back, out of Gabriel’s reach. But Gabriel, his stubborn, beautiful Gabriel, leaned in to capture his lips again. Kissing him was easy as breathing, being lured in by his heat, _him_ , was as effortless as existing. 

But they had more important things to do.

“Later,” Jesse promised. “First, this.”

Thin and silver, the needle flashed in the low light.

And on its tip was blood.

They traded looks, then Jesse went back to stitching, sewing together skin like precious, expensive fabric. Gabriel sat still, closed his eyes and just breathed. Where did Gabriel go when he needed to silence the screams, Jesse wondered. Somewhere peaceful, he hoped. Somewhere with just the two of them, where only they existed. Happy, warm and safe in each other’s arms. 

When he was done, Jesse patched him up, then set the supplies aside. He must’ve grunted out in pain at some point, because Gabriel was suddenly close, gentle hands searching over his ribs, down his side. He took the fussing in stride, gathered Gabriel’s hands in his and held them. But Gabriel wouldn’t take no for an answer. His fingers skirted down his side again, gathering the hem of his shirt and lifting it up, over and away. What lay in front of him was Jesse’s skin, mottled with bruises, marred with cuts. Jesse watched as Gabriel fluttered a touch over crisscrossed markings, then bent low to press his lips there. Another kiss on his ribs. 

“What about you?” Gabriel whispered against his skin. “Are you okay?”

“Said I was fine.”

“Are you?”

Gabriel took a nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the tight bud. Jesse held his breath, then let it out slowly, in a soft groan. “On second thought…” Jesse rasped. “Thinkin’ you might need to make sure.” 

Jesse felt Gabriel smile against a bruise, soothing the dull pain with another soft, gentle kiss. He dragged kisses to every one of them, like drawing lines between stars and revealing their constellations. Jesse lost himself in Gabriel’s touches, groaned under his affections. And when Gabriel took him inside his mouth, Jesse flopped back onto the bed and arched his spine in absolute pleasure. The screams died away, the memory of the building’s blazing heat, the smell of burning flesh—all gone. Jesse wondered if Gabriel had escaped too, the crushing feeling of failure, of loss, of letting down the only family he had left.

When Gabriel gave his everything over to sucking him off, Jesse knew Gabriel was still trying. Maybe the calls for help were still rattling around in his head, the rows and rows of coffins all he could see. Jesse looked down, and watched him suck, watched his own dick disappear slowly into Gabriel’s mouth. Another groan slipped out of his throat, and Jesse reached down to rub fingers over Gabriel’s shaved head, massaging—distracting him from whatever he was thinking. Gabriel’s blank stare came into focus again, and he looked up, smiled around his cock.

“Why don’t you stop thinkin’ for a little while and fuck me, huh?” Jesse smiled like a sunny day. “Commander.”

Gabriel abandoned his dick immediately, crawled up the length of him and settled in between his legs. Their kiss was passionate, all lips and tongues, a soft noise here and there. Then Gabriel was slicking himself down with the lube he’d found in the nightstand, fingering him open as much as he had to—before pushing in fast, hard, to the hilt. Jesse saw stars, and a fissure of pain cracked his body open. He liked the pain, it made him forget things, and Gabriel knew that, fucking him just as rough. He couldn’t think of anything else, just _Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel_ , the breath forced out of his lungs with every thrust. It wouldn’t take long for either of them. With the afterburn of adrenaline, the desperate need to escape and feel _something_ other than loss…

Jesse spread his thighs open wider, and Gabriel pushed in deeper, burying his face in his neck, huffing, an aborted moan lost in sweat and skin. He let fingers roam over every bump and bruise on Gabriel’s back, down, down, greedy hands gripping his ass, kneading it, then jerking inward to drive Gabriel in harder, over and over again. His body trembled with his impending release, Gabriel’s groans thicker, then— “ _Fuck_.”

When Gabriel lost himself, spilling hot and heavy into him, Jesse came between them, hugging Gabriel so close he thought he might crush him. But his hero, steadfast, solid Gabriel, didn’t crumble. Instead, Gabriel wrapped his arms around him and nestled his face into his neck. Both of them just breathing quiet in the empty room. No screams. Incredible heat of fire nonexistent. Just them, alone, safe and warm in each other’s arms.

And for the moment, just this moment, they were free.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
